


I’ll write under a pseudonym, you’ll see what I can do to him

by Sanna_Black_Slytherin



Series: like you need it to survive [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual James Madison, Banter, Fishing Trip, Fluff, Gen, Hamilton: actual five-year-old, Humor, Jefferson: queasy around fish, Madison: Jefferson's exasperated babysitter, McDonald's vs Subway, Politics, Twitter, Washington is DONE with Hamilton and Jefferson's antics, Washington: Hamilton's equally exasperated babysitter, exasperated James Madison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9093904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanna_Black_Slytherin/pseuds/Sanna_Black_Slytherin
Summary: From: WashingdadI will be going on a fishing trip. You are accompanying me, as is Secretary Jefferson.AKA, the infamous fishing trip





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I realized that I may have been somewhat cruel for killing off 90% of the characters before the fic even began, and I also wanted to play around with their backstory, so I did a prequel.

_Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
Historically speaking, nothing important has ever been accomplished before noon.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
Closest was Columbus discovering America at 11:30 am, but then he went to take a nap. #notamorningperson

 _George Washington_ @GWash  
@AdotHam We do, however, have Senior Staff meetings at 9 am, Secretary Hamilton. Attendance is mandatory.

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam Feel free not to show up. I, or one, will be much obliged by your absence.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese Dream on, baguette boy. Someone has to oppose your autocratic plans.

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam I was just about to say the same thing about you.

 _Angelica Schuyler_ @archangel_schuyler  
@AdotHam @macandcheese Not here, gentlemen.

* * *

 _From: Washingdad_  
Son, stop picking meaningless fights with Secretary Jefferson on social media.

 _To: Washingdad_  
What about meaningful fights?

 _From: Washingdad_  
No, Alexander. No fights with Jefferson anywhere on social media.

 _To: Washingdad_  
Does that mean that anywhere else is fair game?  
Sir, you know I'm right. Jefferson is just WRONG.

 _From: Washingdad_  
Such behaviour is unbecoming of a man in your position.  
I would also like to ask you to refrain from outright insulting Donald Trump.

 _To: Washingdad_  
Sir, with all due respect, that man is the very epitome of incompetency. Furthermore, he represents everything that I strive to prohibit. He is the only man I ever saw who is, from the bark to the very core, a villain.

* * *

From: DANGelica  
G wash says that you should look up the meaning of FOIA.

 _To: DANGelica_  
Nah

* * *

 _The Argus_ @argus  
Secretary Hamilton privately calls Donald Trump “the very epitome of incompetency” and “a villain”!

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@argus I call him worse things in public. This was actually pretty tame. '@AdotHam: Fuckface von Clownstick throws childish tantrum at @Gwash WHY'

* * *

 _From: turtle boy_  
ALEX NO

* * *

 _From: DANGelica_  
Alexander Hamilton, this is not what I meant. This is the very opposite of what I meant.  
You do not refute one allegation by providing evidence of something even worse.  
I WILL confiscate your phone.

* * *

 _Donald Trump_ @realDonaldTrump  
@Gwash can't even control his cabinet. How can we expect him to control a country?

Alexander Hamilton @AdotHam  
@realDonaldTrump Somewhere out there, there is a tree, tirelessly producing oxygen so you can waste it on talking bullshit.

* * *

From: DANGelica  
I hope that you're never elected president because I'd fear for your Press Secretary.

To: DANGelica  
I don't see what the whole fuss is about

From: DANGelica  
No, I don't suppose you would.

* * *

 

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam You really could not have sunk lower.

Alexander Hamilton @AdotHam  
@macandcheese You underestimate me. I brought my pickaxe and I'm ready to DIG.

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
'@AdotHam: You underestimate me. I brought my pickaxe and I'm ready to DIG.' The Secretary of the Treasury, everyone.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam 2090 called. You’re dead and you wasted your time on Earth.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese You are such a nerd.

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam Pot, meet kettle. You do that thing where you quote shows and hope nobody catches on.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese Has anyone ever told you you’re a killjoy?

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam You do. Frequently.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese AND ANOTHER THING YOU GORGEOUS PIECE OF SHIT (1/6)

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese YOU ARE LIKE A TRAINED APE. EXCEPT WITHOUT THE TRAINING (2/6)

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese WHEN YOU DIE, I'M GOING TO NAME A BANK AFTER YOU BECAUSE YOU HATE THEM (6/6)

 _Eliza Schuyler_ @actual_cinnamon_roll  
@AdotHam Alexander Hamilton, it's the middle of the night. Go back to sleep like a normal human being.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@actual_cinnamon_roll I'm neither normal nor human.

 _Eliza Schuyler_ @actual_cinnamon_roll  
@AdotHam Correction: be a nice vampire and stop bothering us mere mortals.

* * *

 _National Gazette_ @natgazette  
Why do people feel like they have butterflies in their stomach? bbc.in/2hwSyrj

 _Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier_ @ambassador_baguette  
'@natgazette: Why do people feel like they have butterflies in their stomach? bbc.in/2hwSyrj' Have you been eating caterpillars lately?

* * *

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
did you just call me 'hot'

 _To: thomasthedumbengine_  
dream on, jefferson

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
you'd like that, wouldn't you  
I mean I know I'm hot but I just don't swing that way

 _To: thomasthedumbengine_  
you DO swing that way  
for madison

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
jemmy and I are just friends

 _To: thomasthedumbengine_  
I'm friends with john but I don't suck his dick  
wait  
nvm

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
I so did not need to know that, hamilton

 _To: thomasthedumbengine_  
hate you too, jeffershit  
*jefferson  
shit

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
HAMILTON  
YOU ARE DEAD TO ME  
YOU HEAR ME  
DEAD

* * *

Lafayette loved Hamilton, he really did, but sometimes, he just wanted to hit him in the head.

A recurring example of Hamilton being frustrating would go somewhere along these lines: Hamilton would complain about how Jefferson walks in on private meetings like he owns the room, and Washington has the gall to kick Hamilton out because Jefferson actually has a scheduled meeting, and how Jefferson keeps making fun of Hamilton's clothes even though he is the one to dress like a colour and fashion disaster, what with that magenta jacket, and how Jefferson keeps blocking all of Hamilton's proposals and how Hamilton doesn't really want anything but to help this country and improve it and make a difference, but dammit that annoying stupid conceited Virginian keeps blocking his every move and Hamilton has had about _enough_.

At this point, Lafayette would usually sigh and order pizza because it looked to be a long, long night.

* * *

Politics was no walk in the park for anyone, let alone the President of the United States. Hamilton and Jefferson made sure of that.

Still, there were some amusing moments every now and again. One time, Congressman Matthew Lyon of Vermont, a die-hard Republican, began to mock the aristocratic sympathies of Federalist Congressman Roger Griswold of Connecticut. Griswold then accused Leon of him seeing prostitutes being the reason for his recent divorce. Lyon responded by spitting in Griswold's face. Griswold grabbed a hickory cane and proceeded to thrash Lyon, who retaliated by taking up a poker and attacking Griswold. The two congressmen ended up scuffling on the floor like common street thugs.

Alexander Hamilton being Alexander Hamilton, he had his own two cents to add to the affair:

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@Matthew.Lyon @R_Griswold Politics at its best.

Thomas Jefferson being Thomas Jefferson, he never failed to comment on Hamilton's comment:

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam That's rich, coming from you.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@macandcheese At least I'm not a backstabbing bastard.

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam No, you are just a bastard.

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam Shush now, let the grown-ups talk.

Honestly, Angelica thought, those two needed to get a room – preferably before the White House or any of its paintings were irrevocably destroyed. Washington refrained from suggesting it, though less because he was president and therefore supposedly above such gossip, and more because he was positive that both men were petty enough to take revenge on him.

* * *

 _National Gazette_ @natgazette  
National Gazette owner Philip Freneau frozen to death while trying to get home.

 _Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord_ @PrinceOfTalleyrand  
@natgazette Ah yes, the wonderful weather in New York City. Daily features: frozen journalists littering the streets.

 _Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord_ @PrinceOfTalleyrand  
@natgazette Seriously, though, how can you freeze to death in NYC? The record low is –26°F.

 _George Clinton_ @realGeorgeClinton  
@PrinceOfTalleyrand You really ARE obnoxious beyond description.

 _Fisher Ames_ @federalistpisces  
@realGeorgeClinton And you, dear sir, are a hypocrite, so it balances out.

 _George Clinton_ @realGeorgeClinton  
@GWash Control your pets.

* * *

 _From: W_ _ashingdad_ _  
_ I will be going on a fishing trip. You are accompanying me, as is Secretary Jefferson.

Alexander grimaced; for some reason that was, quite frankly, beyond Alexander's understanding, Washington made frequent attempts to make Alexander and Jefferson get along, unable to understand that they were as different as day and night — it was impossible for them to exist in the same room without causing a paradox, an argument, or, during one memorable meeting, a broken chair leg.

 _To: W_ _ashingdad_  
Sir, I have business of utmost importance that I must tend to  
I can't afford to waste my time on pointless animal slaughter  
Also, Jefferson's a vacuous imbecile with no understanding of international macroeconomics  
I don't interfere in his Department, yet he persists in poking his long nose in mine

 _From: W_ _ashingdad_  
As a matter of fact, you DO give your opinion on foreign affairs.  
Frequently and loudly.  
And you WILL take a break. I can make it an order, son.

 _To: W_ _ashingdad_ _  
_ Don't call me son, sir

 _From: W_ _ashingdad_ _  
_ Understood?

 _To: W_ _ashingdad_ _  
_ Yes sir

 _From: W_ _ashingdad_ _  
_ White House, tomorrow at 7 am. Behave around Secretary Jefferson.

* * *

 _From: Hamilton's daddy  
_ You, along with Secretary Hamilton, are accompanying me on a fishing trip.

 _To: Hamilton's daddy  
_ Sir, I don't think that's a good idea. Hamilton and I do not exactly get along.

 _From: Hamilton's daddy  
_ It will be an excellent opportunity for you to rest. Hopefully, the both of you will also be able to move past your differences.

 _To: Hamilton's daddy  
_ I'll try to play nice with Hamilton.

 _From: Hamilton's daddy_  
That's all I can ask for.

* * *

 _From: thomasthedumbengine  
_ your dad wants to drag us on a fishing trip

 _To: thomasthedumbengine  
_ he's not my father

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
yeah right  
anyway, try not to say anything extraordinarily stupid during this trip

 _To: thomasthedumbengine  
_ I was about to request the same of you, but then I realized it was impossible for you not to say anything dumb

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
that's rich, coming from the man who thought britain is the pinnacle of government  
and supported brexit

 _To: thomasthedumbengine_  
britain doesn't need the eu  
they are only stopping the uk from advancing

 _From: thomasthedumbengine_  
more like the eu doesn't need britain  
if they think their country can survive w/o free trading agreements, let them try

 _To: thomasthedumbengine  
_ I wouldn't expect you to understand the intricate web of connections that is the european economical system

 _From: thomasthedumbengine  
_ you'd be surprised

 _To: thomasthedumbengine  
_ impress me with your vast financial knowledge

 _From: thomasthedumbengine  
_ okay so here comes

* * *

 _To: ambassador lancelot_  
washington me force de faire un voyage de pêche en virginie

 _From: ambassador lancelot_  
et?

 _To: ambassador lancelot_  
il a également invité jefferson

 _From: ambassador lancelot_  
thomas est très gentil  
vous vous entendrez bien

 _To: ambassador lancelot_  
le problème est que nous NE nous entendons pas  
du tout  
il est la personnification anthropomorphe du diable

* * *

 _From: Jemmy_  
I'm dying, thomas

 _To: Jemmy:  
_ no, you're not

 _From: Jemmy  
_ my throat feels like the depths of hell

 _To: Jemmy  
_ you have a cold

 _From: Jemmy  
_ I will die from this plague

 _To: Jemmy  
_ *sigh * I can come over with chicken soup if you'd like

 _From: Jemmy_  
I knew there was a reason I loved you

Thomas smiled. Jemmy had a sarcastic side to him, one which he didn't show to a lot of people. He felt honoured that he was included in that select group of individuals whom Jemmy trusted.

Anybody who saw them together always made the assumption that they were dating, which couldn't be further from the truth. They were the best of friends, and a platonic power couple – between the two of them, they could push through just about any kind of legislature they wanted – but they weren't interested in any sort of romantic involvement with each other. Thomas… well, Thomas was straight, whereas Jemmy didn't seem to be anything at all.

Thomas was always protective of his 5'4 feet tall, 100 lbs best friend – which, for reference, was Thomas' height in seventh grade (but then again, Thomas has always been freakishly tall for his age). It was equally sickeningly adorable how tiny Jemmy was, but also a little worrying. Of course, there were always people who attempted to take advantage of Jemmy's stature, but they quickly learned that little Jemmy Madison could hold his own in almost any fight – and those which Jemmy could not, for any reason, defeat, Thomas did.

* * *

“This is Hamilton. Who is this?”

“Hamilton, what did you do to Thomas?”

“Hello to you too, Madison.”

“He curled in on himself and keeps hissing 'that fucker' while glaring balefully at the wall.”

“I resent the implication that I am the only 'fucker' Jefferson knows, considering his his social circles. Like, Beckley. Or Freneau. Or–“

“Hamilton.”

“I mean, I didn't even do anything to him! Well, I obviously told him that he sucks and where he could stick those ideas of his, but that's not anything special, so I'm not sure why he would whine about that–“

“ _Hamilton_.”

“–then again, he also tended to whine whenever he didn't have his favourite coat, or whenever someone insulted his precious Virginian sensibilities, or when I bring mice to work–“

“You do _what_.”

“Bring mice. To work. I mean, that's not even the worst thing I've done. That one time, I made a video of his–“

“ _HAMILTON!_ ”

“Jeez, Madison, you didn't need to scream. I can hear you just fine.”

“It's not your hearing that's faulty, it's your listening skills. Now, let me repeat myself: what did you do to Thomas?”

“I don't know! Unless he is still pissed about that thing with the books, but I thought that he had moved past it.”

“What _thing with the books_?”

“… I may or may not have sent him a video of me burning his books in his office while he was out getting lunch.”

“ _You burned his books?!_ ”

“No! I would never do that to books. I mean, sure, Jefferson's an asshole, but books are sacred. Even _Twilight_ , as much as it pains me to utter the very words. No, I just edited a video of me burning books and Photoshopped his office into it. Shit, I didn't know that it was _that_ convincing.”

A sigh. “One of these days, you will be the death of me. Also, Thomas likes a triple-shot frappucino with peppermint, if you're looking for an apology.”

“Duly noted.”

* * *

 _Aaron Burr_ @BurrSir  
Never do today what you can do tomorrow. Something may occur to make you regret your premature action.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@BurrSir You have GOT to be kidding me.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@BurrSir You know what your biggest problem is?

 _Aaron Burr_ @BurrSir  
@AdotHam No, but I presume that you will inform me shortly.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@BurrSir It's not a lack of ambition so much as a complete absence of any kind of personality.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@BurrSir Also, your decision-making skills are worse than mine, which says a lot.

 _Thomas Jefferson_ @macandcheese  
@AdotHam @BurrSir I don't even know whom I'm cheering for here, but this is hilarious XD

 _James Madison_ @JMads  
@macandcheese Thomas, behave.

* * *

“I am suffering from dysania,” Hamilton stated dramatically, leaning back in his chair for additional effect.

“Also from choking on an outdated dictionary,” Jefferson shot back, passing Hamilton by with two coffees. He pressed one of them into Hamilton's hands. “Have you considered that you wouldn't _have_ this problem if you actually had more than 3 hours of sleep?”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Hamilton sniffed, finishing his coffee in thirty seconds. He made a grab for Jefferson's cup, but Jefferson held it out of Hamilton's reach. “And the dead.”

“Which you will be, if you are determined to continue like this,” Jefferson pointed out.

Hamilton narrowed his eyes. “And why do you care?” he asked suspiciously.

Jefferson shrugged nonchalantly. “I don't, it's just that you are the only person who will still debate with me, even if you have arguably the worst opinion on every single matter. Imagine how bored I would be if you weren't here.”

“Well, we can't have that, now can we?” Hamilton drawled, heading towards his office.

“'Thank you for the coffee, Secretary Jefferson!'” Jefferson yelled after him. “'How very nice of you to think of me! I shall remain eternally grateful for your kindness!'”

“Piss off, Jefferson.”

* * *

 _Royal Academy of Brussels_ @RAB  
The Royal Academy of Brussels is issuing a call for novel scientific papers of various kinds. Contribute YOUR paper today!

 _Benjamin Franklin_ @benfranklin  
@RAB I have composed an essay on a most grave topic. I believe that research should be undertaken into methods of improving the odor of human flatulence.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@benfranklin Did you just

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@benfranklin You did.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@benfranklin You are my hero.

 _Alexander Hamilton_ @AdotHam  
@benfranklin Send me that essay. I need to read it.

 _Benjamin Franklin_ @benfranklin  
@AdotHam My good sir, this essay is scarcely worth a fart-hing. Still, at your request, here it is.  
[ _Attached file: To_the_Royal_Academy_of_Farting.pdf]_

* * *

Washington insisted on driving up to his cottage together. 'Driving' may have been a little excessive considering that there was no way that Secret Service would let any of the top three politicians in the country drive – though in Hamilton's case, it was a matter of security inasmuch as the fact that Secret Service had put down a firm foot, citing that, while they trusted him with the nation's economy, they did not trust him at his driving skills, having once memorably experienced them.

Still, the three men were making their way to Mount Vernon.

Right off the bat, it seemed to Washington as of Hamilton and Jefferson for competing to see who could be more annoying. Hamilton kept tapping out messages to Jefferson in Morse code, switching from English to French after Washington admonished his language. Jefferson stuck out his tongue, and Hamilton rolled his eyes.

Jefferson, for his part, found at the radio, and connected to his music to it. Immediately, Hamilton begun complaining without even bothering to listen to the music in question; Washington found the classic jazz tunes– if not enjoyable, then at least tolerable, and certainly relaxing. Hamilton switched the music to some rap song or other.

Washington winced. While he personally had nothing against rap, often finding it impressive that people even could pronounce English words at such incredible speed, he could already feel a headache coming on, thanks to the two Secretaries at his sides. The aggressive music did not help matters. “Hamilton if you could please–“ he pointed helplessly at the radio.

Hamilton's face fell as Jefferson smirked. Hamilton complied with the president's wish, though not before hissing “This isn't over” in Jefferson's direction.

From then on, Hamilton and Jefferson settled into an unspoken passive-aggressive arrangement that consisted, at its core, of annoying each other without being obvious about it. Hamilton settled on not talking and pretending that he did not hear Jefferson's questions to him – both of which annoyed Jefferson to no end for some reason.

Jefferson retaliated by obviously fake excessive sweetness for Hamilton, asking whether he really was feeling alright and making a show of worrying about his layers of clothing “because I know that you still can't tolerate winters in D.C.”, which made Hamilton want to punch out Jefferson's teeth.

Washington who was seated right between the two Secretaries, already questioned the wisdom in inviting both of them. He experienced enough of this already during cabinet meetings, where he made the simultaneously the best and the worst decision in his life: to be seated between Hamilton and Jefferson. The best because he just knew that, if left to their own devices, meetings would, more often than not, end in outright scuffles and broken furniture; the worst, because he was subsequently forced to daily endure Hamilton and Jefferson's quips at each other. To repeat this experience while technically on vacation wasn't Washington's idea of a good time. Still, he had nobody to blame for this predicament but himself. He was one who chose Alexander Hamilton for Secretary of the Treasury, and Thomas Jefferson for Secretary of State; he was the one who all but forced them into this joint vacation – against the advice of everyone else, mind – and he was the one who insisted on being seated right in the middle, in hopes of acting as a mediator.

(He knew Hamilton and Jefferson well enough to be able to predict most arguments at this point. These days, there was little that surprised him, but when it did, it was big. On one memorable occasion, Hamilton and Jefferson got into an argument but Washington pointed out that it was interfering with the cabinet meeting and that he would prefer not to know what they were calling each other so that he would have plausible deniability, so they continued to scream at each other in flawless Latin.

Needless to say, nothing else got done that day, though Washington noted that, should he ever need a Latin translator, he apparently had two.)

Another debate arose when the hour grew late enough for a food stop. When Washington tenuously proposed McDonald's, Jefferson opposed the idea vehemently, on the grounds that it was 'but a poor parody of food and agriculture', complete with a pointed glare at Hamilton. He even went so far as to claim that he would rather 'give in to starvation' than set one food in that 'villainous place'.

This prompted Hamilton to endorse McDonald's on no other grounds than that it would piss Jefferson. 'Enemy of my enemy' and so forth. This despite the fact that Washington had several times been privy to rants disavowing the international food chain because of sheer danger to the health of the consumers.

In the end, they settled on Subway, since it was the fast food chain that Jefferson found the least despicable.

When they arrived, Washington cordially informs the two men that, due the size of the cottage, they would be sharing accommodations. He could not decide whose face was more indignant, but he knew that he would treasure this memory for years to come (assuming that Hamilton wouldn't be the death of him before them, which was always a plausible possibility). Washington left the squabbling men to unpack, and went to watch the calming view of the lake.

Washington knew the precise moment when Hamilton and Jefferson discovered they would not only be sharing a room but also bed by the sudden cessation of all sound. Washington relished in the nice, if a little worrying, change.

Alas, that was not last. Washington heard the arguments resume, this time about who would have which side of the bed. Apparently. both Hamilton and Jefferson wanted the side by the door – Jefferson because it was closer to the bathroom, and Hamilton because it was further away from the east-facing window. Hamilton eventually won, by virtue of wearing Jefferson down with his stubborn whining.

Jefferson stomped down the stairs. He approached Washington, who was standing by the back door. “Sir this is a bad idea,” he said.

Washington was inclined to agree, but he could hardly admit that Thomas Jefferson, who would lord it over him for the rest of his term. “Don't worry,” he said instead, “I'm sure that we are going to have a _splendid_ time,” he attempted to turn his grimace into a smile. He wasn't sure whom he tried to convince.

Jefferson did not look reassured, but he acquiesced.

* * *

Dinner was a tense affair, with Hamilton and Jefferson glaring at each other wordlessly. Both of them also spared glares at him but did not speak up. Washington counted that as a big victory.

After dinner, the three men retreated to various corners of the house, doing their utter best to ignore one another. After a brief grumble that there was no service at the cottage, Hamilton went to retrieve his laptop and returned to typing at whatever it was that he was perpetually working on. Jefferson was curious, but not curious enough to ask. He still remembered that time Hamilton wrote a forty-page feet essay about the most efficient method of exterminating mosquitoes. Jefferson wouldn't even have concerned himself with that pile of garbage, except for how Hamilton then asked him to proofread it, claiming that whatever Jefferson recommended, he would try to do the exact opposite.

Jefferson spent a few minutes simply browsing Washington bookshelf, curious despite himself about what kinds of books Washington would keep in his holiday cottage bookshelf. The bookshelf was brimming from top to bottom with miscellaneous books, some with prominent titles such as 'Rules of Civility and Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation', 'The Adventures of Don Quixote', and 'The Law of Nations'. In the end, he settled on a well-worn example of Alice in Wonderland, and found an armchair to sit in.

Jefferson was the first to excuse himself and go to bed. He guessed that Washington followed shortly after if the tired look on the man's face was anything to go by. In the middle of night, Jefferson felt a body pressing itself against his. He presumed that Hamilton had finally gone sleep, and did not give it more thought before returning to sleep himself.

* * *

Jefferson awoke before Hamilton, to the surprise of exactly nobody. Hamilton was the very antonym of a morning person which, coupled with the fact that he slept roughly half the time Jefferson did, equaled a sleepy Caribbean.

During the night, Hamilton hogged every blanket. In turn, Jefferson pulled the blankets towards him. Hamilton draped himself around Jefferson like a koala.

Washington was already up, sipping at a coffee and making no effort to do anything more than that. Breakfast therefore fell to Jefferson. He made pancakes – regular ones for himself and for Washington and chocolate chip for Hamilton, jeering about how Hamilton had all of the maturity of a five-year-old, to which Hamilton snapped that there was nothing wrong with chocolate chip pancakes and “honestly, Jefferson, have you even tried them?”

After breakfast, Washington decided unanimously that they were going fishing, and _no_ Hamilton, cell phones were not allowed on the boat, this was a time for relaxation from work. Hamilton pouted but relented.

* * *

They found themselves in a fishing boat. Half an hour into the endeavour, Hamilton contemplated sticking the hook in Jefferson's eyes, which were unfairly gorgeous.

“Jefferson,” Hamilton abruptly groaned.

“Hamilton,” Jefferson replied in an identical manner.

“I'm bored.”

“It's' not my role to entertain you. Get yourself a babysitter.”

“You're old enough to be my grandfather, so you can also be my babysitter,” Hamilton honest-to-God stuck out his tongue.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “How very mature of you, Mr Secretary. How old are you, six?” he mocked.

“I am actually twenty-six.”

“Then I'm not _that_ much older.”

Hamilton snorted. “Really? How old are you, ninety?”

Washington ignored them pointedly from the other side of the boat. Jefferson sniffed. “Thirty-one, if you have to know.”

“A couple of child geniuses. Youngest in our positions in history.”

“I know. I've heard it all before,” Hamilton said bitterly. “About how smart I must be, how very _proud_ my family must be.”

“Do I detect a note of resentment?”

“I'm not here to tell you my life story,” Hamilton retaliated. “You need to be at least level five friend, or level four boyfriend, neither of which you are.”

“What am I, then?” Jefferson mocked.

“Level ten enemy,” Hamilton retorted, though without much bite.

“People don't have enemies.”

“I do. I'm brilliant enough.”

“What you are is a fucking narcissist.”

“And you are shy and awkward but also cunning as fuck, so I'd like to think we're equal,” Hamilton retorted.

“Jefferson! Hamilton!” Washington admonished. “Language. We are here to relax, not to argue.”

“These two are not mutually exclusive sir,” Hamilton objected, just like Jefferson had expected him to.

Washington grimaced. “That would explain a great deal about you. Hold on, I think I've caught something.”

Hamilton and Jefferson watched as Washington took hold of the fishing line and used it to reel in whatever it was that had gotten caught in it. Washington studied the fish critically. “Decent enough,” he finally gave his verdict.

Hamilton settled in for an entire day of mind-numbing boredom. A sound alerted him to the fact that Jefferson, too, had caught a fish, smirking in Hamilton's direction the entire time. After that, Hamilton became focused on his own rod, determined not to be outdone by Jefferson of all people. It would be far too humiliating to consider.

Still, by the end of the day, Hamilton had not caught a single fish, as compared to Washington's seven and Jefferson's three. Hamilton stomped out of the boat as soon as they had docked back, muttering “Wipe that smirk off your face,” to Jefferson.

Leaving Washington to store everything into their rightful places, Jefferson caught up with Hamilton. “Have we finally found something Alexander the Great cannot do?” he asked innocuously.

Hamilton twirled on his heels in order to face Jefferson. His eyes were blazing with strong emotion, though Jefferson was unable to name them. “Are you naturally that much of an asshole, or do you have to work at it?” Hamilton spat.

Jefferson smirked. “It's all part of my natural charm.”

“You know, whenever you say anything, all I hear is 'punch me',” Hamilton growled.

Jefferson snorted. “Quoting _Sherlock_ , are we?”

“Talking about ourselves in third person, are we?” Hamilton mimicked.

“Jefferson!” Washington yelled from the dock. “Come clean your fish!”

Jefferson looked startled at the notion that he would have to clean his own fish. Hamilton grinned. “See you around, loser,” he said, jogging off towards the cottage, leaving Jefferson dumbfounded.

For dinner, Washington prepared the fish. He banned Jefferson from the kitchen, saying that, so far, he was only certain that Jefferson could make pancakes and mac and cheese, and was not willing to risk perfectly good fish to anyone's lack of cooking skills. Jefferson tried to argue that he knew how to cook, _thankyouverymuch_ , but Washington wouldn't have it.

Hamilton didn't even try to help. Jefferson attributed it to the fact that Hamilton genuinely did not know how to cook. From what Jefferson had managed to piece together from the rumours circulating around the White House, Hamilton was living off take-outs – and that was when Hamilton even deigned to eat, which, judging from the same rumours, was roughly once every two days, or whenever someone force-fed him. How Hamilton had even made it to adulthood, Jefferson had no idea.

And Jemmy called his Kraft macaroni being lazy. At least he ate with a degree of reguality.

After dinner, Jefferson found a violin stored behind the bookshelves. He tested it out and hummed appreciatively. Though it wasn't as well-tuned as his was back home, it was not too bad for a violin that has not been used in years, or so Jefferson presumed. Washington did not strike him as the man who would play the violin.

He drew a tune, which elicited a response from Hamilton. “You play the violin?” he asked incredulously.

Jefferson shot him a withering glare. “No, I just like to hold random instruments and pretend that I know how to play.”

“Sarcasm noted.”

With that, Hamilton did something unexpected: he rose from his spot by the fireplace and approached the piano. He took a seat and played a random tune, making a noise of approval similar to Jefferson's.

“You play the piano?” Jefferson did his best not to sound surprised. By the look of Hamilton's face, he failed.

“ _Duh_ ,” Hamilton said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I also compose.”

Jefferson narrowed his eyes. “So do I.”

“I am better at it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Wanna bet?” Hamilton challenged.

“You don't have anything that I want,” Jefferson scoffed.

“Is that Jefferson-speak for 'I'm too scared that Alexander Hamilton is better than me'?” Hamilton asked innocently.

“ _In your dreams_.”

When Washington returned from chopping wood, he found his two Secretaries leaning heavily over the kitchen table, scratching something illegible onto a piece of paper, occasionally snatching the pen out of each other's hands. Jefferson would then play a seemingly random note that would still make sense to the two men, and Hamilton would either nod or shake his head.

Washington smiled. Maybe the outing would not turn out to be such a massive failure after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Apropos nothing: when I imagine the Hamilton Laurens meeting in the afterlife, I tend to think of the Alex Marty meeting in Madagascar, with Alex being all _COME HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT SO THAT I CAN BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF YOU HOW DID YOU DARE DIE ON ME_
> 
> Washington would be the Gloria in this analogy. (I would have chosen Thomas Jefferson because Melman is obviously Jemmy Madison, but they were still alive, so.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> About Franklin and the paper on farts: there was a call for scientific papers. Dear ol' Ben, who thought that people began to concern themselves with unnecessary research, wrote a paper on why farts smell and, just to fuck with the Europeans, submitted it to the single most pretentious European university he could find. It's one of my absolutely favourite Founding Fathers facts, along with the fact that Ben Franklin basically _owned_ Philadelphia.


End file.
